Comfort
by ifonly13
Summary: "When you can't run, you crawl, and when you can't crawl, you find someone to carry you."  A series of one-shots.
1. A Shot in the Dark

_A/N: This was just typed up in literally 30 minutes. That's how quickly it came to me. And who really needs sleep in college?_

**_Disclaimer: When I become the next Andrew Marlowe, I'll be sure to read fanfiction. Until then, I'll just write it using his characters. Spoilers for Season Four._**

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><p>Kate was sprawled out on her couch, a book open on her chest, and a glass of white wine on the coffee table. It had been a long day and her appearance mirrored the stress. The loose heather-grey yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt, cut along the neckline so one side fell over her shoulder, made her look tiny. Her hair was a tangled mess, pulled back into a ponytail that currently tumbled over the throw pillows propping her head up. There were purple crescents under her tired green eyes.<p>

She had hoped that reading would take her mind off work. The case was hard, but the fact that it included the sexual assault of a minor made it that much more difficult to work. Emotions ran high with minors, especially when she had a father as her partner. She still had the image of Castle's face when they had arrived on the scene and caught sight of that little girl.

New York City bustled outside her windows, the familiar sounds of cars honking, subways rattling, and taxi drivers screaming at jaywalking pedestrians were a lullaby after a lifetime in Manhattan. She faintly heard a siren in the distance, her brain working to figure out which emergency personnel that belonged to. But the next sound was not usual in her neighborhood: a gunshot rang out, the sound bouncing off the exterior of buildings.

After six months, Kate thought she had a handle on her panic attacks. But this caught her by surprise and that vise tightened around her chest with such ferocity that it physically hurt her to breathe. She didn't hear the shouts from the street or the feeling of the book falling to the ground as she sat up.

There, in the dark of her apartment, Kate sat, gasping for breath. She could feel the tears gathering behind her eyes and the part of her that was still holding onto control forced them back. In a panic, Kate fumbled for her cell phone, her fingers shaking as she hit the second speed dial.

"Castle." The voice on the other end of the line was sleepy, obviously woken from a dead slumber.

Her voice shook as she said a single word: "Help."

She heard the sheets rustle on his end, heard his feet hit the hardwood floor as he ran from the bedroom. "Hold on, Kate. Okay? Just stay with me."

"Castle, I-"

"I'm on my way. Just stay right where you are. Stay on the phone, Kate. Got it?"

Somehow, she managed to get her mouth to answer with an affirmative. Her body trembled as she curled against the side of the couch, the phone cradled against her chest. When he asked questions to make sure she was still present, she mumbled back responses, the words not making any sense.

Fifteen minutes later, she heard banging on the door. "Kate! Open the door, Kate!"

"S'open," she called, just loud enough for him to hear through the wood.

He burst through the door, letting it slam against the wall before it closed itself from the extra momentum. "Kate!"

She turned her eyes up to him just as he sat on the couch near her feet. "Castle, there… there was…"

"Shh… Come here, Kate." He reached out, pulling her into his lap, cradling her head against his shoulder. He ran his hand over her hair, his fingers catching in the snarls. "It's okay. You're right here, right?"

"But I heard…"

He hated how weak her voice sounded against his chest. "But it wasn't you. You're okay. Kate, you're alive. Right here."

The floodgates broke. With a strangled sob, she fisted his shirt in her hands and cried into his shoulder. "Oh, God, Castle…"

"It's okay, Kate," he whispered repeatedly, smoothing his hands over her shoulders and back. Her body shook with the adrenaline from the panic attack and the strength of the tears. He faintly heard sirens nearby, obviously responding to the gunshot. But he was more concerned with the woman breaking apart in his arms. After five minutes, her sobs slowed to gasping, uneven breaths. If long nights of comforting Alexis after nightmares as a toddler were any indication, those usually signified exhaustion coming on.

She didn't notice when he picked her up, carrying her from the living room to her bedroom. Her hands automatically wrapped around his neck, her nose still buried into the place where his neck met his shoulder.

He hadn't been in her bedroom in the new apartment and didn't have time to admire the decidedly non-Beckett style in which it was decorated. He let his shins bump the mattress as he moved to lay her down. But she didn't untangle her fingers from behind his neck.

"Kate, you need to let go."

Her voice was scratchy and thick with emotion. "No. Stay." She cracked one eye open and saw his face, indecision written across it. "Please. I just need a person here. In case it happens again."

He swallowed, nodding slowly. "Okay." As soon as he consented, she let herself fall back onto the pillows. Castle pulled the sheets up to her waist, the faintest of smiles tugging at his lips when she sighed. He took a moment, closing his eyes and raising his face to the ceiling, wondering what the hell he was doing. Then he toed off his shoes and went to the other side of the bed, lying on top of the sheets.

Kate shifted over, pressing her body against his. Despite the intimate position, he could tell she was just looking for a warm body to pull comfort from. And if that's all she needed, he was happy to be used. She rested her head on his shoulder, letting one hand curl on his chest. The contented sigh that escaped her lips had his heart swelling. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and his fingertips brushed the neckline of the t-shirt. The movement had it slipping lower and, even in the dark, he could make out the scar she had taken precautions to hide from the public.

"It doesn't make you weak or any less beautiful, Kate," he muttered into her hair.

As his fingertips ran along the smooth skin and over the slightly-raised bump from the surgery, Kate sighed out four words he wasn't prepared to hear.

"I love you, Castle."

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><p><em>AN: This was brought to you by a tumblr post that wanted to see Kate call Castle for comfort when she was suffering a panic attack. In my original idea, they just talked through it over the phone. But Castle is a man of action now and found his way to her apartment where Kate decided to drop that bomb on him._

_As of now, I'm leaving this as "in-progress" since I may want to return to this story and talk about the repercussions of her half-asleep declaration. If I ever find the time, that is._

_Reviews would be lovely. Just sayin'..._


	2. Happy Birthday

_A/N: Yes, this took a while. I had one idea for the continuation of Comfort that I toyed with for a long time, but I wasn't happy with where it was going. This concept struck me last night and I went with it. There's a time jump from the last chapter - just letting you all know._

**_Disclaimer: I can only aspire to be as great a writer as the ones currently employed by Castle._**

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><p>They had held a late barbeque on the balcony, just the four of them. The city air was thick and humid, but he insisted that they eat outside.<p>

Kate had changed out of her work clothes into shorts and a white tanktop, her hair pulled into a ponytail. She glanced up at him, a forkful of salad halfway to her mouth. "What?"

"Nothing," he replied, taking a bite of the burger.

She put the fork down on the side of the plate, raising a brow. "No, that was something. Spill."

Castle shook his head. "Not happening." He pointed at her salad. "Eat."

Kate blinked, then continued eating her dinner, still feeling his eyes on her. "Martha, how are rehearsals going?"

"Oh, you know," the diva replied with a wave of her arm. "Summer stock is stressful in the beginning. We've fallen into a nice schedule right about now, though. And Lady Macbeth is sure fun to play."

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><p>By nine o'clock, Alexis and Martha had headed into the air-conditioned loft. Castle had brought out the old radio and was fiddling with the dials to find the station for the music that accompanied the fireworks over the Hudson.<p>

Kate snuggled against his side once he had the station in-tune, pressing a kiss to his jaw as they sprawled out on the lounge chair on the balcony. Thanks to the placement of the loft, they had an unobstructed view of the Hudson and Kate could pick out a few of the barges for the fireworks.

"This is nice," she murmured, turning her eyes up to look at him.

He nodded, shifting his head so he could place a kiss on her lips. "It is."

With her head cushioned on his chest, Castle reached over to turn up the volume of the radio over the sounds of the city. It was strange. Cars had quieted a bit, sirens seemed to have turned down their wailing, and the city had taken on a hushed tone for the holiday. Kate would have protested; her day had been filled with drunks doing stupid things while celebrating their nation's birthday.

He had one hand brushing back the tiny ringlets of hair that had curled in the humidity as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder just as the first firework exploded. He felt her hand fist in his shirt, felt the tremor that shivered through her body.

"Kate?"

"I'm okay," came the whispered response, but her hands stayed tightened in the fabric of his t-shirt. "It just surprised me, you know?"

He gave her a gentle tug so she was lying across his chest, her head cradled in the space between his shoulder and neck. With each colorful burst over the skyline, her body gave a little jerk, becoming less pronounced as the display continued. Neither of them were watching the show. Her eyes were closed, his were trained on her face. By the time the radio had segued into the next song for the fireworks, her shoulders had stopped twitching with each explosion and her face had relaxed.

"What was that?" he asked gently, brushing her hair back from her forehead.

She curled against his side, shaking her head. "Sometimes it comes back out of the blue."

"I thought you were cleared."

"Mostly. There're still things that set it off."

"I don't like that."

She laughed, the sound clear enough to reassure him. "It's not exactly a picnic for me, you know."

He swallowed hard. "Kate, I didn't mean to imply that-"

Kate finally opened her eyes and she pushed up on his chest to peck him on the lips. "You didn't."

They were quiet, letting the music and sporadic flashes of color in the dark speak for them. After all of the fireworks had been sent into the sky, the radio host signed off for the night. The city sounds picked back up as if the moment of silence for the birthday was over.

"I didn't get to see much of them," she muttered.

"I think PBS shows the Boston fireworks later."

Kate sighed, shifting so she could roll off the lounge chair. "Let's go turn the TV on then. Boston always has better fireworks anyway."

The air-conditioning was a welcome change from the heavy air outside. They moved to the couch, turning on the TV just in time to see Craig Ferguson finishing up the concert and introducing the Boston fireworks show. Kate leaned against Castle's side and felt his arm wrap around her shoulders.

"How much longer?"

She shrugged. "Who knows. The brain is weird."

"Even the great Kate Beckett's brain?"

"Even mine." Kate reached over, plucking the remote from his hand and muting the TV. "Listen, I know it's hard for you to watch me like that. But I need you here, with me. You help more than you think."

"I hate it, Kate. I hated it that first night and I hate it every time since then."

"I'd apologize but…"

"It's not your fault," he finished. "I can still hate it, just like I'll hate the person that did this to you. It doesn't change how I feel about you."

She didn't answer with words. Instead, she pressed a kiss to his neck. "I know."

With these fireworks, she stayed still next to him, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as hearts and stars lit up the sky above the Boston Harbor.

"I remember saying it." Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but he heard it. "That night when you came over. I remember."

"You do?"

She nodded, the movement slight against his shoulder. "Yeah. It's still true. I do love you, Castle."

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><p><em>AN: So, it's short. And I'm not sure how I feel about it. Reviews would solidify my feelings about it. They'd also make me smile while I try to study for my Irish history midterm. And don't you want me to be happy? (That's right - I'm trying to guilt you into reviewing my story. Is it going to work? Who knows...)_


	3. Always Right

_A/N: This one is very short compared to any of my other writing, but it was actually the first scenario I thought of writing after Rise._

_Also, you'll notice that I've changed the description of Comfort. This has evolved into a collection of one-shots that deal with Beckett's PTSD. The quote in the description comes from Firefly's episode "The Message" and it's one that I feel describes Castle and Beckett's relationship to a tee._

_This one jumps back to "Rise."_

**_Disclaimer: Just borrowing, not owning. Not even a little bit._**

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><p>It didn't feel right and she hated it. It had always felt normal, like another part of her body, just an extension of her arm. It had been natural since the day it had been placed in her care that first day out of the Academy.<p>

But now? Now she wanted to throw it across the room.

Kate closed her eyes, the once-reassuring weight of her Sig Sauer in her palm. It felt like a grenade, one that was missing the pin and that she wanted to toss away but knew she couldn't. Part of her wanted to place the gun on the shelf at the range, return the goggles and earplugs, and just run back to her father's cabin in upstate New York. She had never been one for avoidance, but she figured she could make some changes for her current situation. Gates would be annoyed. The boys wouldn't comment. Castle would be angry, probably. She'd hate herself for doing it.

Still, her hand hesitated over the low shelf, the pistol hovering above the scarred wood. Unclenching her fingers would be easy and her problem would be solved.

"_Life never delivers anything that we can't handle."_

She shivered as her mother's voice rippled through her mind. With a ghost of a smile pulling at her lips, her hand tightened around the grip of the Sig.

Her voice was muffled to her own ears from the earplugs. "Geez, Mom. You always have to be right, don't you?" She nodded, answering her own question. "Yeah, you do."

Kate took a deep breath, ignoring the tug of her still-healing scar, and raised the gun up to eye-level. With complete focus, she pulled the trigger rapidly, clustering the ten bullets around the ten-ring of the target. Each shot had her shaking from more than just the miniscule whiplash from the gun, but her hand held steady as she popped out the clip and laid the gun on the shelf.

Two minutes later, a fresh target was in front of her. She was determined to make sure the first round wasn't a fluke, a stroke of luck. Ten shots grouped in the center of the outline told her it wasn't.

With a smile, Kate signed the gun back to the range master along with the goggles and earplug, folded the two target papers under her arm, and walked back out onto the street. Already, her hip felt empty without her own service weapon holstered there. Tomorrow she'd show Gates that she was ready to be back on the active roster in full, that she could handle herself just as well as she always could.

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><p><em>AN: I'm going to keep going with these one-shots until my muse runs out of scenarios. If you have any suggestions, drop them in the review or in my tumblr ask box and I'll be sure to give credit if your suggestion sparks something._

_I know I just published the last chapter less than twenty-four hours ago, but if you can find it in you to review this one, I'd be eternally thankful._


	4. Up All Night

_A/N: I'm on some sort of writing kick right now. Because normally, I would never be able to publish two chapters within the same day. But this one is short as well, so that plays into the equation pretty heavily._

_To give you a timeline, though this one could be pretty obvious, we're now in the summer before Kate returns to the precinct._

**_Disclaimer: I'll keep dreaming of the day when I can claim even the smallest bit of this show._**

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><p>"Katie, you really do need to sleep."<p>

She couldn't bear to look over at him. He had been telling her the same thing for the past week and each time his eyes mirrored pain that laced his voice. She knew he hated seeing her like this and she hated seeing him see her like this.

"I will, Dad. Go to bed."

Jim hesitated in the doorway to the little living room, his hand on the frame. Kate gave him a little wave, her smile sad.

"Promise?"

She nodded. "I promise."

Kate watched him walk into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. She let her head fall back, pulling her knees up to her chest as she sat in the picture window. The woods outside were dark, the shadows that danced there still making her jump once in a while.

He was still out there. She knew the boys hadn't been able to catch the shooter and the knowledge that the man could be just outside her father's cabin chilled her to the bone. But she refused to move from her place in the window. She was mocking him, sitting right in plain sight and just waiting for the next shot to come, daring him to find her.

She hadn't slept in days. The naps she caught when her body finally shut down on itself didn't count as sleep. Every time she tried to close her eyes for longer than an hour, the memories returned and those were what she had run away from in the first place.

_Montgomery's last words to her._

_Her team, gathered in her apartment the day after._

_Evelyn Montgomery's face as she was handed the folded flag from her husband's casket._

_The single tear the dripped from his nose onto her cheek as he whispered those four words that she still insisted she hadn't heard._

_The hurt and confusion in his eyes when she had sent him away from the hospital bed._

Kate shook her head, trying to throw the flashbacks out. She pulled a hand through her hair, letting her head hit the window frame a little harder than usual. She wanted to sleep. Real sleep. The type she used to fall into after a case that had stretched out for weeks had finally been closed.

She glanced over at the counter where the sleeping pills sat in the prescription bottle. She had broken down and taken the pain meds after Dad had commented about her wincing after every movement. Maybe it was time to try the sleeping pills. A week was a long time to go without sleep.

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><p><em>AN: I literally wrote this as I was making peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. Like, between batches in the oven. That's how quickly these are churning out. But I still like to get suggestions to put our darling detective and our roguishly handsome writer into that have to do with the former's posttraumatic stress disorder. Again, drop them in a review or in my tumblr ask box._

_Yeah, I'm going to be asking for reviews again. I'm greedy like that._


	5. Role Reversal

_A/N: So, I'm ahead in my NaNo word count which means I reward myself with writing fanfiction. But this story was already written, just chilling in the recesses of my hard drive under a different title. I wrote it over the summer of The Hiatus From Hell and never came back to it. As I went through to organize my files, I stumbled across it. Given last night's promo (which I haven't seen being spoiler-free but definitely saw glimpses of), a new Comfort chapter seemed to be in order. Why? Because you all weren't crying enough already._

_**Disclaimer: They say if you wish hard enough, your dreams do come true. I'll just have to keep wishing, I suppose.**  
><em>

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><p>The television was on, playing a documentary on the National Parks. Kate didn't hear any of it. She was on her couch, the same place she had occupied since that morning when she had dragged herself from the bedroom to the living room, wearing her pajamas, her uncombed hair pulled into a mess of a bun. She was certain that if she ever decided to brush it, the knots would take hours to untangle.<p>

As she blankly watched a clip of a wildfire at Denali National Park, she lifted the bottle of whiskey and took another sip. The burning sensation that she had felt when she first opened the bottle had died away, the liquid just sliding down her throat.

It wasn't a good sign. She faintly remembered yelling at her father when he told her the same thing twelve years ago. But the pain in her chest and the fear that gripped her mind clouded over the logical part of her as she took another mouthful of the alcohol.

The door creaked open. She had given a key to anyone that mattered so they wouldn't have to disturb her, so she didn't get up right away.

"Katie?"

It took her a moment to realize who it was. Only her father called her that. She sat up, her head spinning with the motion, her eyes darting for a place to hide the nearly-empty bottle. It was too late.

Jim had rounded the couch, then stopped short. "Katherine? What are you doing?"

In the back of her mind, the still sober part of her mind, Kate knew that was a bad sign. The only time her parents had used her full name, it had meant trouble. "Hi Dad." Those two words were heavy, her tongue having trouble getting them out coherently.

"How could you, Katherine?" he asked, his voice slowly rising in volume. Somewhere in her mind, Kate realized how out-of-character that was for him – Jim had always been the soft-spoken one in the family. "After everything you saw me go through, you turn to that," he indicated the bottle still loosely clasped in her right hand, resting on her foot, "to get you through this?"

"Dad, I –"

He grabbed the bottle, throwing it across the room and making her jump when it shattered against the kitchen sink. Part of the response was shock that he was reacting like this. The other was flashing back to the sound of a gunshot. "No, Katie! You can't do this to yourself! Not after what you saw with me a dozen years ago!"

There was silence. Jim was breathing heavily, his eyes full of pain and hurt and betrayal. Kate was still in shock.

"Katie…" He sat next to her on the couch, pulling her onto his lap, just as he had when she was little. "This isn't the right way to deal with everything. It's not you."

Defeated, she rested her head against her father's shoulder, her hands fisting in his flannel shirt. "Dad, I'm sorry. I just… I needed everything to slow down, to stop, for a while."

It was like they had been rewound twelve years, but with their positions reversed. When Kate had walked in on her father so drunk he couldn't stand, she had talked to him, using the same reasoning as he was using on her now. In fact, the entire night had followed a similar script.

"If anyone understands, it's me, Katie." His voice had quieted, though it still was a little rough from his outburst.

Even with her face buried in his shoulder, her words were clear. "I know, Dad."

"You can't just sit in your apartment and let these feelings, I don't know, marinate with you for too long."

"Really, Dad? 'Marinate?'"

He gave her a little shove. "I was thinking on the spot." His voice softened further, a hand moving from her shoulder to run over her hair, his fingers catching in the tangles. "If you don't want to talk to your therapist about this, talk to me. Let's go eat somewhere."

She nodded, swiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "Okay. I gotta change, I guess."

"It would be a start. You go ahead. I'll wait."

Her feet were a little unsteady as she got off the couch, but Jim caught her forearms with a faint smile. Kate leaned down, pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Thanks, Dad."

"Anytime, Katie."

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><p><em>AN: This one has the potential to become a favorite chapter of mine for this story. I'm a little in love with Jim Beckett..._

_Reviews make me happy. Just sayin'..._


	6. Confrontation

_A/N: I've had this one for a while, never quite happy with where it was going. Now I've worked on it as much as possible, so I'm putting on its coat and sending it out into the world with its bagged lunch._

_**Disclaimer: The writers were in Los Angeles for Castle Convention this weekend. I was in Rhode Island.**  
><em>

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><p>Her hands were shaking. At first, she thought it might be a train going past, but when it lasted longer than three minutes, Kate knew that wasn't the case. Trying to still them, she clutched the wheel, her knuckles turning white. The trembling just moved up her arms. Somewhere inside, she was laughing because the normal symptoms weren't really presenting themselves. Her breathing was even and her sight wasn't blurring… yet.<p>

But she was only sitting in the car. She supposed the fact that she was just shaking was the best part, telling herself not to look a gifted horse in the mouth. A full-blown panic attack was not needed.

Taking a deep breath, Kate opened the door and stepped out. Her boots crunched on the sand as she started the walk over. The snow that was falling lightly started to land on her hair. She shook her ponytail quickly to dislodge any flakes as she stepped around the Shiloh Drive sign post, shoving her hands into the pockets of her peacoat. They're still shaking, almost more violently than they were in the car. Each step brings a new batch of adrenaline that kicks the shivers into high gear.

Her steps faltered as she turned off the path and onto the snowy hillside. Kate wanted to blame the snow for it, but she knew that would be lying. It was because she saw the polished marble in front of her with his name on it.

Kate looked up at the sky, the snowflakes landing on her cheeks. It was a good way to disguise the prickling of tears she felt behind her lids.

"Hey, sir," she whispered as she walked past the headstone, her fingers trailing over the top.

It was the spot behind the pale grey marble that really terrified her. Even in the winter, she could nearly pinpoint the exact spot where it had happened. In her mind's eye, the light dusting of snow disappeared and it was May again.

Kate turned on the spot, creating a circle of grass in the middle of the snow. In the distance, a naked tree's branches shook in the gust of wind and she couldn't help but draw the connection between the shaking of the tree and the trembling of her hands deep in her pockets. Her eyes grazed over the headstones in front of her, wondering which one had sheltered the sniper. But her gaze never stayed in one place; it flickered from headstones to the driveway to the sky and back to the lines of marble. Still waiting for the next shot.

She scuffed the toe of her boot on the grass she had cleared off, clenching her hands. She wished she could blame the cold for the trembling, but she knew better. Funny, how the two incidents that had forced her to therapy had connections to this cemetery. Across the fields, her mother's grave stood, fresh flowers at the base from when Kate and her father had visited yesterday. And now Montgomery and the shooting.

"Kate?"

She jumped, swiveled to try and find the source of the voice. In her head, it sounded faintly like Montgomery's but that wasn't right. Leaning against the hood of her car was Castle, his shoulders hunched against the wind and snow but his hands were free, holding two cups of coffee.

"You shouldn't be out here in the cold, Kate."

Kate tried to walk over without slipping, but failed. She watched as he jerked forward to grab her before she hit the ground. The motion was so similar to the one he had performed months ago that Kate's chest constricted even as her feet were planted firmly on the sandy path.

He pushed off the hood, meeting her at the intersection of the road, and holding out one of the coffee cups.

"What're you doing here, Castle?" She hated that her voice shook just as much as her fingers did, circling the warm cup.

"You didn't answer your phone or your door. So I eliminated locations until I got here." He was standing too close, his eyes on her face, his free hand swaying toward hers. "Why'd you come back?"

"I had to. To see if I felt anything, remembered anything." Her smile was sad as she turned it up to him.

He took a sip from his own coffee, trying to look nonchalant. "And did you?"

"Yeah, I did." He raised a brow, urging her on without words. Kate let her free hand play with the hem of her coat. "I'm angry and scared and pissed off." Her words didn't seem to make him feel better as she paused. "And happy."

This had him pausing, the cup almost to his mouth. He lowered it slowly, his eyes narrowing. "Happy?"

"Yes. Happy."

Kate stepped around him but his free hand grabbed her forearm, spinning her so she found herself pressed against the passenger door of her car. "Castle, what are you-"

"Why happy, Kate?" his voice was a low whisper, barely audible even though he had his lips close to her ear.

She took a deep breath, their chests brushing each other. "Because you love me." His eyes widened so she pushed on, riding out her sudden bravery. "And I sort of love you too."

None of the anger she expected was there. Not even a hint of frustration. What she did see was relief, clear even in the smoky light that broke through the clouds.

"Took us long enough…" he said just before he cradled her head with his free hand, letting his lips rub over hers gently. "I'd known for a while that I loved you."

"Same goes. Now shut up, Castle, and drive me home so I can tell you again." She slipped into the passenger seat, taking a sip of the coffee as he turned the keys in the ignition and pulled out of the cemetery. The hand not on the wheel inched onto the console until it covered hers, their fingers twining together.

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><p><em>AN: Because I want to share, I was spending my weekend, not in Los Angeles, but filming a video for my French class. We had to come up with a mystery and film it using different grammatical stuff and verb tenses. Basically, we have an abusive relationship that ends with the death of a girl, Cosette. Her best friend, Kate, starts investigating Cosette's boyfriend Christophe as the killer because of their abusive relationship. It ends in a shoot-out between Kate and Christophe. Well, yours truly was playing Kate. I got to run around my theatre with a gun. It was so much fun and felt very Beckett-esque. Tons of re-takes made me feel like a real actor._

_In other news, I broke 20K on NaNoWriMo tonight!_

_Review, my darlings! There may only be a few more Comfort chapters to come!_


	7. Rewind and Play

**_Disclaimer: If the real writers took this long to write, they'd probably be fired._**

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><p>The day had been hard for a few reasons.<p>

First was the fact that someone was dead. Someone that should have been alive to go home to their family and friends, to have a glass of wine over dinner, and go to sleep with someone they loved. They should have been alive to go back to work and finish their job. Alive to reach retirement age, edge beyond that because they loved their job, but still decide when it was time to quit and move to the Caribbean and open a surf shop or go backpacking through Europe like they had wanted to since college or just find a nice house and see the grandkids every week.

But they couldn't. Someone else decided when their life would come to an end and it wasn't fair. It never was.

Second was that she hadn't slept, really slept, in almost three days. She couldn't let herself have those hours of peace when a family was suffering. So she made another pot of coffee and ate too many M&Ms in an attempt to up her alertness. It had worked for the first day and a half but then her body had become used to the increased level of caffeine and sugar in her bloodstream that the two had become useless.

When Castle had scolded her for running herself ragged, Kate had stalked off to the break room to take an hour-long nap on the couch there. After exactly sixty minutes, she had emerged and started in again. She had ignored his worried glances as she found the financials of the victim on the mess of her desk and started scanning the lines again.

By the end of day two, she was fighting to keep her head from falling onto her desk. No leads. Nothing to even give a tug and hope something came from it. Zip.

The frustration of trying to convince the captain to let her keep the case open was exhausting. But Kate needed to do this for the father and daughter left without a wife and mother. Not just because it was her job to find that justice for them, but because Kate saw herself in the twenty-two year old girl that had left the precinct crying against her father's chest. And she hated that someone else might become what she was.

So when she had finally given in to her co-workers' concerned comments about sleep, Kate had no energy to fight off the nightmares she knew waited at the edge of her consciousness. She kicked off her shoes in the entrance way of her apartment, let her purse fall onto the ground next to them. She barely managed to change out of her clothes and into the ratty pajamas she kept around for comfort before she fell into bed.

Kate could have sworn that she felt the sun pounding on her shoulders and head, the heat just making the starched jacket of her dress blues more uncomfortable. She stretched her fingers out, even the normally soft white gloves annoying her today. No complaining this time around. He deserved more than whining about the weather or the way her uniform, dug out from the back of her closet, was restricting her movement.

She knew what was coming but she couldn't make her body move when she heard Castle's frightened shout of her name.

But she did feel the burn of the bullet. Felt Castle's weight as it hit her in his attempt to save her. Heard his voice, a whisper as, even in her dream, she fought through the haze of pain. "I love you, Kate."

Just as her vision blackened, the dream started over again with a flash. She was back standing behind the podium, again knowing that the same thing was going to happen and nothing she could do would change it.

It replayed. Over and over. Each time, she had to see the pain in his eyes as he desperately muttered the four words she had longed to hear but with no way to respond. And she wanted to speak so badly, just in case it was her last moments. To let him know that she returned the feelings and had for the longest time. Her mouth wouldn't work, opening and closing as she tried to force words through the pain spreading through her chest.

Kate jerked awake after the fourth re-experiencing of those few minutes. Her head spun, the room dancing wildly around her until she let it fall into her lap. The darkness created around her face from the pile of blankets helped settle her. The nightmares didn't come often, but Kate had a suspicion that her exhaustion from working herself into the ground had weakened the already thin barrier she had managed to erect around her mind to keep that particular memory away.

Still shaking, Kate stumbled to the bathroom. It was past three in the morning, but she turned on the shower and stripped off her sweaty pajamas. They were left in a pile near the sink as she started to scrub away the nightmare, just as she always did when this beast returned. It usually helped for a few days until she ran herself down again and it made its way back into her subconscious to disturb her again.

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><p><em>AN: Comfort is coming to an end with the next chapter. I've exhausted my well of knowledge on PTSD symptoms and frankly, it hurts me to see Kate go through these situations. The last chapter will be a positive note. I promise._


	8. Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen

_**Disclaimer: They're not mine. They belong to other people.**_

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><p>He knew she hated when he watched her sleep but that never stopped him.<p>

She was sleeping, one arm thrown out over the pillow haphazardly, a pale line over the dark blanket of her hair, the other tucked under her head. Half of her face was buried into the sheets, but the bit of her mouth that Castle could see was open in sleep.

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. She shifted, sighing as she turned the rest of her face into the comforter. Totally unaware of her surroundings and completely not like the detective she was down to her bone.

Castle slipped off the bed, using the pale light from the light in the bathroom to find his way to his dresser. He had kept the little box in the top drawer for almost a year now, buried under socks, waiting until things felt right. With Meredith and Gina, things had not felt right when he had proposed; marrying them had simply the right thing to do at the time. He hadn't really known either of them beyond the exterior that they showed the world. Meredith had always been more concerned about her next audition or where various sales on designer shoes were occurring. Gina spent more time nagging him about manuscripts and publishing deadlines than getting to know him past the words on the pages that he handed her.

He had to fight back a laugh at how different his relationship with the woman currently sprawled out on the majority of his bed had proceeded. But it had all felt so damn right. Even when the path hadn't exactly been the smoothest, he knew he was going through it for the one person who mattered more than anything.

She still had nightmares. They woke him up in the middle of the night, something he later claimed never happened. He'd untangle her legs from the sheets, pull her close to him, and ride it out with her. He had stopped caring about the sleepless nights and she had learned not to comment on the extra cup of coffee he downed in the morning before they went to the precinct.

Kate had taken him to one of her therapy sessions back when they had finally decided to label their relationship. Burke had insisted that he speak to Castle without Kate in the room and then spent the next twenty minutes talking to Castle about the remaining symptoms of Kate's mostly dealt with post-traumatic stress disorder. The nightmares, the force of her shaking every time she fired off her weapon, and the moment of hesitation when a gun was turned on her had all decreased since they had finally closed the case that had defined her existence and brought that barrier down from around her heart. Castle liked to think that he played a large part in that, providing her someone to draw even the smallest amount of comfort from in the middle of the night, but he knew that the man across from him had played a large role as well.

When he had emerged from Burke's office, Kate hadn't asked him a single question as she handed him his coat and scarf before walking out of the building to go get lunch. He had always afforded her the same respect. But Castle knew that he had Burke's approval, for whatever it was worth.

Last night had been a quiet one. They'd spent the evening wrapped up in a blanket on the couch watching a marathon of _M*A*S*H_ that had been showing on TV Land. He had watched Kate carefully paint her toenails a fiery red, wiggling them to get them to dry faster as they passed a Tupperware container with leftover steak tips and rice between them. She had tossed teasing glances his way and he only responded with quotes from whichever episode of the Korean medical dramedy had been on the TV screen at the moment.

They were both too tired to do anything but curl under the covers and sleep after saying goodbye to 4077th for the last time. Goodbye, farewell, and amen. She had gotten the last word in, mocking him about knowing all of the lines to the old show, before they dropped into an uninterrupted sleep.

Castle didn't want to risk waking her up by sitting on the edge of the mattress, so he paced the length of the bedroom, the ring box in his hands. He turned the little square over and over, feeling the velvet under his fingertips.

Nervous. He hadn't been nervous before.

He flipped the top of the ring box open and pulled the ring from the cushion. A simple, thin silver band with a single diamond. Understated but still beautiful. He turned back to look at Kate, the pale line of her back a contrast to the dark sheets as she stretched, rolled over onto her side.

With one final prayer to whichever higher power might be watching him at the moment, Castle stepped toward the bed.

And stubbed his toe.

And dropped the ring, watching it roll under the bed.

A string of curses was barely bit back as he hopped around on one foot, shaking the other in an attempt to get feeling back into his little toe.

Then he got on his knees and started to fumble under the bed for the ring of silver. He found a missing sock and one of Kate's bras under there before he managed to hit his forehead on the frame.

"Damn it…"

He heard the rustle of the sheets before her head appeared next to him. "What're you doing, Castle?"

Shit. Shit shit shit. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Castle let his head fall back onto the frame of the bed, running a hand gingerly over his hair and wincing when he hit the sore spot.

"Looking for something."

"What could possibly be under the bed that you need at…" Her voice trailed off as she turned to glance at the clock on the bedside table. "Three oh-nine in the morning? What are you even doing up at this hour?" Kate flopped back onto the pillows with a groan.

Castle stuck his hand back under the bed, feeling the floor for the bump of the diamond. His heart leapt when he felt something cold, but it was just the old black belt that Kate refused to get rid of despite the fact the buckle was falling off. They really did lose a lot of clothing under here. Castle pushed the belt to the side, stretching his fingers out to try and get to the middle of the bed.

Just as he was about to give up, search for it while she was at work and follow through with his Plan B of dinner at the loft, the two of them, before asking her, his middle fingertip brushed the band.

"Yes!" he whispered. It was still out of his reach but if he could find a book or something to bump it back toward him, everything would be back on track.

Then the ring was out of his hand. Sticking his tongue between his teeth in concentration, Castle pushed his arm further under the bed for the band and found it missing completely.

"Castle. What is this?"

He sat up, narrowing avoiding jamming his arm against the underside of the bed in his rush. Castle sat stupidly on the ground next to the bed, his head barely able to see onto the mattress where Kate was sitting. She had pulled the sheets up around her torso, tangled brown hair falling onto her bare shoulders as she turned the diamond ring over in her hand.

"Uh… It's a…" Castle scrambled to his feet, hitting his toe again on the frame of the bed as he knelt on it. "What I mean is that it's a…"

"Lost your ability of speech there?" she shot over the length of bed still between them as she shifted, crossing her legs. "It's a ring."

Not really thinking, he threaded his hand through his hair and flinched when his fingers hit that spot again. "Yeah, it is. I mean, if… Geez, this went better in my mind."

Kate lay back down, the ring resting on her chest, a finger running over the band. She glanced over at him, biting her lip on a grin at the nerves dancing across his face. Better to just put him out of his misery than torture him. "So?" He raised a brow and Kate slipped the ring around her pinky finger, holding it out to him. "You going to ask me?" When Castle only sat there, blinking at her, Kate pulled her hand back, twisting the ring around her right hand pinky finger. "Is it not for me?"

"No!" He practically threw himself across the bed to take the ring from her finger. "No, it's most definitely yours, Kate. That is, if you'll have me." Castle swallowed, leaning his head on his propped-up arm. "I love you. If that's not enough to convince you to take another chance on me, I had a list on my phone that I can read off. But I'd like to think that my feelings for you are-"

She quieted him with a finger laid across his lips. "Yes, you silly man. Who else has been there for me every step of the way?"

"Well, there are the boys," he muttered.

Kate laughed, shaking her head as she let her head fall forward onto his chest. "I think Jenny and Lanie might take offense if I try to snatch their husbands up, you know."

"Good point." Castle took the moment to smooth a hand over her hair, giving the ends a gentle tug so he could look into her eyes. "I need your hand then."

She held out her right hand, her eyes sparkling with amusement as Castle rolled his eyes. He reached over and took up the correct hand. The ring hovered just beyond the tip of her ring finger as they maintained eye contact.

"Last chance to back out of this, Kate."

"I'm not leaving you partner-less," she said as he snugged the ring onto her finger.

He rubbed his thumb over the diamond as he leaned forward to give her a kiss, still holding her hand. "If it's not your style or anything, we can change it."

"It's perfect."

Kate giggled as he slid over her to plant another kiss on her lips. Her arms reached up to loop around his neck and tug him down so his weight settled on her. The ring felt foreign on her finger but so completely right. She skimmed her hand over his cheek, drawing him back for another kiss, unable to go for long without touching her lips to his.

"I love you so much, Castle."

He managed "I love yo-" before she pressed her lips against his.

"But I have to go to work in a few hours and I need the sleep." She twisted in his arms, letting him wrap his body around hers. "We can celebrate tonight, okay?"

Castle grinned, tugging some of the sheets back from around her body so he could cover his legs up as they tangled with hers. "Sounds like a plan."

She was nearly back to sleep when he kissed the column of her throat. "You interrupted me before. I love you too, Kate Beckett."

He couldn't see it in the dark, but Castle could sense the smile that crept across her face as she dropped back into sleep.

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><p><em>AN: This marks the end of _Comfort_. It's been a ride. I've learned a whole lot, not just about post-traumatic stress disorder, but about myself. Hopefully this final chapter leaves our dynamic duo in a place where everyone, you readers included, is happy. It's been lovely, readers. Catch you on the dark side!_


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